Not Dead Yet
by itsthetruth
Summary: Post Reichenbach. Scarlett's a dangerous kid, can she save Sherlock's soul and bring him back to 221B before it's too late? John/Sherlock
1. The Beginning

Scarlett flicked her brown hair slightly, grinning cockily in the mirror before turning round to the toilet stall behind her, pulling her jacket off the door and putting it on, walking out of the public toilet and onto the street. It had just turned 5 in the evening, and it was getting dark. She was only 15, but she was used to being on her own. Her brown hair swayed in the wind and she wore a plain red strapped t shirt, black jeans and high top trainers, with a brown leather jacket. She sat down on a park bench next to a elderly lady and dug her hand into her pockets, pulling out a hand gun. She frowned at it and casually sat it next to her, ignoring as the old lady next to her let out a little squeak, getting up and shuffling off as quickly as she could. Scarlett finally pulled out her phone, staring at the blank screen. Millions of thoughts ran through her head in one go before she typed in a random phone number she had worked out and saved it in her contact list as _Not Dead_. She chuckled quietly, putting her phone in her pocket and picking up the gun, spinning round and shooting at a man dressed in black's ankle, who was watching her from behind a tree.

"Piss off!" She shouted, running off out of the park, stuffing the gun back into her pocket, jumping into a taxi. "Baker Street please." She said quickly, out of breath as it started to drive along the street. "221b."

...

Scarlett stuck her hand into her pocket, sliding out a slim silver key and jumping out of the taxi, giving him some money. She walked up to the black door, sliding the key into the lock and pushing the door open. She shut it quietly behind her and walked up the stairs and round the corner, looking at the open door. She slowly walked in, looking round the flat. "Anyone in?" She called out, slumping into one of the empty chairs. She sat for a few minutes, fingers tapping on the arm of the chair before a figure appeared at the door.

"Who the hell are you?" She turned and smirked as John stood in the doorway, staring at her gobsmacked.

"So you must be John Watson." She said casually, standing up, putting her hands on her hips.

"Sorry, who are you?"

"Oh, I was just leaving." She said, walking towards the door.

"Scarlett Holmes, you sit down this instant, your not going anywhere!" She felt a hand on her shoulder before being pushed down into the chair.

"Mrs Hudson!" Scarlett groaned, rolling her eyes.

"Mrs Hudson, who is this?" John asked, starting to get impatient.

"This is Scarlett Holmes, Mycroft's daughter."

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**A/N- Sorry it's only short, I might keep going, just a thought I had that's all, enjoy!**


	2. The Time At Baker Street

"The day you were born was the only time I've ever seen your father and Sherlock get on." Mrs Hudson said, sitting on the arm of the chair, stroking Scarlett's hair.

"Sherlock lived here for over 15 years?" John asked, sitting opposite them.

"Wasn't long after he moved in." She sighed. "It was in all of the papers, you know he's gone, you didn't appear then, or any time before when he was in the press, so why are you here now?"

"Oh, you know." She said quietly as Mrs Hudson walked out to the kitchen, pouring out cups of tea. Scarlett pulled the gun out of her pocket, shooting at the yellow smiley face that was still painted on the wall. "The usual." She sighed, John rolling his eyes at her.

"Scarlett!" Mrs Hudson snapped, leaving the tea on the side, rushing through into the living room again. She tried to grab the gun off of her but she waved it in the air away from her. "Your just as bad as Sherlock, what are you doing with a gun?"

"Father's the british goverment, this." She waved it to them. "Is my protection." She said, sticking it back in her pocket.

"That's a load of rubbish Scarlett." Mr Hudson said, bringing the tea back in, handing a cup to John and sitting next to him. "You haven't seen your father in years."

"He's never mentioned you before." John said.

"I haven't seen him since I was 13."

"How come, did he and your Mum have a fall out?"

"Him and my mum were never together, and then she died, a hour after I last saw him."

**2 years earlier...**

**Scarlett sat by her mother's bed side in the hospital, watching her hooked up to a life support machine. The ward was empty and silent, apart from the odd nurse who walked along the hall every now and then. The street lamps shined through the window and Scarlett sat silently, not knowing what to do. Her mother was the only thing she had left in her life.**

**"What happened?" She turned round and there stood Mycroft at the end of the bed.**

**"They were after you." She said quietly, looking back down at her Mum. "She got shot in the neck. She might not last through the night."**

**"Oh." He said quietly. "Hey, you'll be 12 soon won't you? Big girl!"**

**"I was 13 last month." She said, her eyes never leaving the bed.**

**"Sorry."**

**"Well sorry isn't good enough!" She spat. "You've never been there for me, you can't even get my age right, your meant to be my Dad! You no what, no wonder Nan doesn't speak to you or Sherlock." She shouted, standing up and staring at him suddenly. "If she dies because of you!" She cleched her fists, sighing before sitting down again, putting her head in her hands.**

**"I was never cut out to be a father." Mycroft said from behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Don't you wonder why I stayed away?"**

...

"I didn't know where else to go." She sighed.

"If there's people after you, then something's happening." Mr Hudson said in confusion as John pulled open his laptop, typing away.

"Yeah, I think it is." He gulped, turning round the laptop, showing them the screen. **HEAD OF MI5 FAMILY DEAD.** Scarlett grinned cockily, flicking her tounge against her teeth, pulling out her phone and typing quickly to the number she had saved to her phone earlier that day under _Not Dead._

_I know your not dead, let's have dinner - SH._

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	3. The Gun In The House Of Commons

Scarlett walked along the busy London street with a skip in her step, grinning. She pulled the handgun out of her pocket, walking up to the front glass doors of the house of commons. She pushed them open, gun on full display and with a matter of seconds was surrounded by guards, aiming guns at her.

"I'm looking for Mycroft Holmes." She said casually, grinning cockily.

She was pushed into a cell and the door was slammed in her face. She chuckled to herself, swaggering over to the table in the middle of the room and sat on one of the chairs, staring at the mirror she knew she could be seen through the other side, grinning cockily at it.

"What's going on then?" Mycroft sighed, straightening his suit arm, walking into the room on the other side of the mirror.

"This girl, walked in with a gun through the front door, like she wanted to be caught, and all she said was she was looking for you." Lestrade said, leaning against the wall, tapping a pen against his leg.

"Oh really now?" He sighed, standing in front of the mirror, looking up and into the room, his face dropping. "Oh."

"What is it?" Lestrade asked as Mycroft pushed open the door to the room, walking in. "Mycroft?"

"You walked into the house of commons with a handgun on full display? You could have just called." Mycroft said, leaning against the wall.

"Now, now, I do like to make a entrance."

"What happened to her?"

"She didn't last the night." She said sternly.

"And you?"

"I'm a big girl, I can look after myself. I've had to." She snapped. "I'm surprised you had the time to do this, seeing as the whole secret service is in panic over the death of the Nook family."

"Teenager walks through the front door of the goverments home, gun on full display and the only thing she says is she's looking for me. How could I resist? I'm part of the investigation, of course I am."

"Now father, you _are _the British goverment." She hissed, chuckling. "I have 5 ideas so far."

"You've seen no evidence, have no clue."

"This is me your talking to." She said, standing up, slowly walking around the room. "The way your eyebrows are positioned shows your worried, worried so much you won't warn the public. The corner of your suite jacket is folded, you've been leaning, looking at the bodies, leaning for so long and looking at them there's not enough pyshical evidence on the bodies to lead you to the killer, which means it must have been some liqiud. The paper in your top pocket that has the test results on, the corner of it worn, but the rest of it is crisp fresh, you've been looking over them, can't believe what's happened, which means it must be some sort of amnesia inside it, and you know, the person who done it won't remember they did it, which makes it virtually impossible to track down the killer." She finished, standing infront of him. "Am I right?"

"You've been at Baker Street, haven't you?"

"Of course I have." She whispered, right in his face.

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	4. The Conversation With Mycroft

"So." Mycroft began as they sat in the posh black car, driving slowly in traffic. "Nearly your 14th birthday hm? Gonna stick around?"

"I was 15 three months ago." She sighed, looking forward. "And even if my birthday was coming up, you wouldn't care anyway."

"I've always done my best to be there for you."

"No you haven't." She said bluntly. "At school, all the kid's had their Mum's pick them up, with their Dad waiting in the car. Me and Mum had to take the bus for a hour. On their birthdays, their Dad's would give them presents, then pack the party bags and blow up the bouncy castle for their party. Mum bought me some presents, but we sat indoors all day, and she'd moan about how you wern't there. On their first day of secondary, their Dad's would say to them to do well, and pull down your skirt and don't let the boys touch you. Mum said to me not to fail and try to not get pregnant or known as the school slut. And then she died, because they heard her talking about you, and thought she was a threat."

"I'm sorry." He murmered.

"The kids at school, they used to say to me, where's your Dad? And I told him, my Dad's a big part of the government. They'd laugh, saying he was probably dead. And for all I knew, you could've been." She snapped. "You've never been around, cause your job was always too important to you. Sherlock cared more than you did!" She shouted at him, looking at his stunned face. "In my books, you killed my mother!" They sat in silence for a few minutes and Scarlett stared out of the window are they drove along. "This is boring, there's nothing to shoot." She muttered eventually.

"Your not shooting things out of boredom are you?" He sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Sherlock did it."

"Is Sherlock your father? No."

"Don't get all parenty with me, do you even class me as your daughter? Do you tell people you have a child? Apart from Mrs Hudson and John, how many people know your my Dad? Hm?" He sighed and just stared at her. "Stuff this." She muttered, opening the door to the car and getting out, walking off.

"Scarlett!" Mycroft shouted.

**3 months later...**

Scarlett picked up the morning paper as she walked past the shop, quickly reading through the pages before her eyes landed on a particular piece on the announcements page.

_The marriage of John Watson and Mary Railton, St Mary's church, Friday 31st October, 11 am._

Scarlett put the paper down, looking at the time. _9.30 am._ She didn't have much time. She whipped out her phone, sending a quick text.

_You never replied before. I know your not dead, your grave, 15 minutes. You better turn up or I'll come and find you, you know I will. - SH._

She half chuckled to herself, putting away her phone and feeling her back pocket to make sure her gun was firmly still there before walking off down the road, heading to the graveyard.

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	5. The Wedding

"You had to go and jump off the building, didn't you?" Scarlett sighed, sitting down in front of the grave, crossing her legs, tracing over the words _Sherlock Holmes _with her finger. The sun blazed down on her, it was pleasent, not to hot, not too cold, perfect. "Silly, silly Sherlock Holmes. For someone who's meant to be a genius, your so thick sometimes." She sighed, looking over to the church, John outside in his suit, not being able to see her, and looking round. She looked back at the grave, chuckling quietly. "So are you just gonna stand there and make me look like a idiot talking to myself or are you gonna sit down?" She turned to the tree left of the grave, where Sherlock stood underneath it in the shadows. "He can't see, don't worry." She said quietly, patting on the ground next to her. Sherlock silently walked over, sitting down next to her and pulling his knees to his chest, staring at his own grave.

"Why now?" Sherlock said after a few moments of silence.

"Oh Uncle Sherlock, I've been around for a while now." Scarlett whispered, laying her head on his arm. Sherlock smiled a little, putting his arm around her shoulder. "Nook death, amnesia."

"Worked it out?"

"Oh crystal clear." She said.

"3 ideas in 2 minutes." Sherlock said casually.

"5 ideas in 10 seconds."

"Your getting good." He said.

"I was always better than you and Father put together, and that's what freaked you both out."

"He's getting married." He said glumly.

"When are you going to admit you love him?" She said. Sherlock moved his arm and looked at her, shocked. "In fact, when's he gonna admit he loves you? Oh come off it. As soon as Mrs Hudson said my name, the way his eyes lit up when he heard Holmes again. Scarlett, he wished it was Sherlock, that you were back, so listen here, are you gonna go stop the wedding of the love of your life or sit at your own grave moping?"

"If there's anybody here who has reason of why these two persons here present can not join in holy matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

"Yeah." The doors swung open and Sherlock and Scarlett walked down, stopping in the middle of the aisle. "I might have something to say about it."

"Sherlock?" John whispered.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade, Mrs Hudson and Molly gasped.

"Sherlock." Mycroft muttered, half suprised, half rolling his eyes.

"Hello John." Sherlock gulped, staring at him.

"Oh by the way!" Scarlett piped up, grinning. "She killed the Nook family." She pointed at John's bride-to-be Mary as everyone gasped. "Time for the reception? I love a family piss up." She grinned, rubbing her hands together.

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	6. The End

By the time all the whispers and gasping from everyone started to die down, Mary had vanished out of thin air. John stood in silence, his feet glued to the floor, staring at Sherlock whilst Mrs Hudson, Lestrade and Molly all stood around him, half looking at Sherlock and half comforting him. Mycroft stood a few feet away between his seat and John, staring at his brother and daughter, not sure what to say.

"What do I do?" Sherlock whispered to Scarlett.

"I'm not sure." She said quietly. "We did just ruin his wedding day."

"How long did it take to work it out?"

"Oh the second I saw her."

"What am I supposed to say Sherlock?" John finally said, still not moving. "What do you expect me to say?" He gulped. "When I finally think I can start to forget about you cause your dead, and you do this? Now of all days!"

"I'm sorry."

...

"I MEAN HOW THE FUCK DID YOU SURVIVE?" John shouted as he paced the flat, everyone inside as the argument unfolded. "YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME, I WAS ON MY OWN SHERLOCK!"

"I should have stayed away." Sherlock sighed, looking over at Lestrace, Mrs Hudson, Molly, Mycroft and Scarlett.

"Yes, you should of." They turned round to see Mary in the doorway with a gun. Her wedding dress was torn, and mascara smudged down her cheeks. "I don't remember doing it, but if you tell anyone, I'll get sent to prison, Sherlock Holmes." She said, walking up to him and aiming the gun at his head.

"Mary, please." John whispered.

"Sorry John." She whispered, closing her eyes and pulling the trigger. The gun fired and Mary fell to the floor. Scarlett grinned cockily, swinging her own gun between her fingers.

"See Mrs Hudson, this gun did come to some use after all!"

**6 months later...**

"All I'm saying Sherlock is that you don't have to keep shooting the walls, it's bad enough Scarlett does it!" John's voice could be heard from up the stairs. Scarlett slotted her key in the door and opened it, shutting it behind her. She slung her school bag inside the door and made her way up the stairs and into her uncles flat. "Talk of the devil." John muttered, sitting down.

"How was today?" Sherlock said.

"Why bother asking, you've deduced it the second I walked in the door." She said, sitting down in one of the arm chairs.

"Wasn't great then?" John asked cautiously.

"I accidently got my maths teacher arrested."

"How?" John spluttered.

"I deduced that he was having a affair with a pupil in my class."

"As first days go, that's not bad. I caused a drug bust and closed down the canteen after someone put poison in the food."

"Well what a surprise." Scarlett chuckled, turning to look at the door as a figure appeared in the doorway. "Hello Father." She said. Mycroft stood in the doorway, looking in on all of them.

"You got your maths teacher fired, well done dear." He said sarcastically.

"Well I'm not used to school am I? I left primary and never went back y'know?" She said.

"Oh my god!" Sherlock and Scarlett both suddenly said.

"Shit." Mycroft muttered.

"What?" John asked curiously.

"God little brother, sleeping with your assistant now are we?"

"Christ Dad."

"You know, it still really scares me when you lot deduce things."

"Come on you, home." Mycroft muttered.

"Ok, but you've got explaining to do!" Scarlett chuckled, walking out the door. "Seeya tomorrow!" She called back to John and Sherlock.

**The End**


End file.
